French Lore
by Fallen Path of Evil
Summary: Martha is a straight out of Paris girl, living in full luxury all of her life. After being forced into the Militia's army, Martha's life has never been crazier. And when Spyglass sets off a doomsday weapon, Martha, the lowest rank in her squad, will have to find more than just strength is she to survive. (BliskxOC)


Prologue: Smuggler's Cove

The shallow turns of the weeping sea extended before her grey eyes, the dark clouds rolling in from above, thunder cracking the sky like a massive tower falling from the height of its making. On the ship in which she sat, she never felt more seasick in her life.

The rock of the winding salt, ricocheting off the black ship's hull and colliding back into the oily depth in which it came, gave a feeling even worse than seasickness. It made her stomach twist with the most uncertainty and she seriously thought she hated this even more than when she came over to New York, when she lost all of her luxury life and was sent out to space.

Martha, Paris girl from the core and purer than most women, with ash colored grey hair and the same color reflecting off the iris in her eyes, skin as pale as a dove, and standing on an average of five foot eight, with emeralds and earth colors blabbed together in a Pilot outfit for the Militia. Emerald and earth sounded great, but the result; muddy brown.

Disgusting for a girl of thick blacks and whites.

Though her shotgun, rounds crammed in with ease and simplicity, a circular magazine stuffed onto the medium sized gun, well enough for her to hold in her hand and call it larger than a baseball, that magazine was.

And she, along with two members of her crew, psychopath and lab rat Reneece and Lorcan, the aggressive criminal.

Reneece was a wild stress of things. She was nearly as pale as Martha and stood two inches taller than she was, with hardly quirky, short white hair with splotches of orange, pink, and blue from failed hair dye attempts. She was slender and well built, but the thing that stood out about her the most were her eyes.

A valorous pink, with the appearance of being sucked right out of what Martha would call "bubble gum pink medicine" and given pupils and topped off with the white of her eyes, brighter and cleaner than an angel's wings. And beautiful.

Much better than Martha's grey eyes that looked beaten out of the dregs of Hell, like the ashes of bone.

Lorcan was different. He had long, brown hair that resembled frays on the ends outwards, and neon yellow eyes and white skin as bright as anyone else's. No one knew underneath Lorcan's eyes, thereof his crimes he wore a thin black padding around his face, body, arms, and legs to cover his identity.

Not to mention older out of everyone else there, her and Reneece averaging at about twenty one years, and Lorcan being a solid twenty six. Hate to say, also a lot heavier, but he was just as muscular as any of them, even thinner than Diego, their squad leader, who was more masculine and well-built out of all of them.

Martha felt like her head just cracked like an egg being dropped onto hard concrete as the ship pulled to a stop, and her dizziness took the better of her and made her drop right to her face against the concealed wood, and she grunted sharply.

Reneece, who was sitting atop one of the crates that lay next to the mast, watched the smaller female drop into a face plant, and a worried look shot across her face as she propelled herself off the wooden, moldy and rotten crate and darted over to Martha. "Martha, you alright?"

Spitting out a mouthful of busted lip, briefly, "Never better."

Reneece's worried face dropped like a stone while Lorcan trotted over to the rest of them, his arms crossed against his chest, his face expressionless against his thin body torso armor, and he sighed.

"Clumsy as you ever were," he growled. "Can't wait for it to be in the middle of Smuggler's Cove with all the pirates looking under your dress." His scoff gave away his mindfulness to the words. Martha only rolled her eyes.

She wasn't even wearing a dress.

Reneece took the lead, padding across the oak and leaping onto the dock of Smuggler's Cove, patiently awaiting her friends' arrival, her pink eyes glistening with the colored lights that dangled from nearby rooftops.

Of course they were here for any reason someone else might be. Smugglers and pirates riding in with ships loaded of booty and loot, booths and cabins set up for sales, and coins jingling in the pockets of all men. Little women were here. Those that usually were here were maids who had housekeeping to tend to in inns.

Or Pilots who tended to strike up the most illegal supplies still left available on this planet.

Martha would rather have been elsewhere instead of going to the place where illegal activities occurred, but it bothered her little. If Diego wanted the three of them to steal the entire IMC base, Martha would surely, but hesitantly, try.

Lorcan, the money pouch dangling off his more feminine, hilariously to Martha, hips and his hand planted around it to ensure no thieves would come racing by, despite his obvious want and need to do it himself. Even as a young boy, Lorcan killed grown men with plenty of scissors and razors, all of which Lorcan made efficient weapons out of kitchen knives.

Martha sighed, and she glanced around the dock. Lights glowed on the side of the wooden platforms and the water splashed harmlessly at it, making it nothing but a nuisance. She wasn't the person who wanted to be here. Direct orders from Squad General Diego.

Martha attempted to reach down past her rundown green armor into her pocket where she shuffled it around for her phone. _That ass!_ Diego must have taken it before they arrived. Even though her Squad leader and Warrant Officer, Carlos, were secured at base. It would be another two days before she would be getting _that_ back.

Lorcan looked over his shoulder, an arrogant grin shown by his jawline and not hidden by his mouth piece. "Phone gone?" he taunted, shaking his long brown hair that were curved in perfection.

Martha growled lowly.

Reneece didn't slow down, not even for her squad. The second-in-command was the person in charge anyway. Diego made sure that Lorcan didn't get any ideas.

Everyone knew Lorcan's capabilities. He was more physically fit then anyone here, not including Diego, the only person he couldn't overpower. Lorcan's body build was scarcely reasonable, but fit nonetheless. With Lorcan's loyalty issues, anything could happen.

But for the half-year he's been in the Militia for Kraken Squad, he hasn't shown signs of wanting to kill his own team.

"Why are we here anyway?" asked Martha. "I surely hope it's not _just_ buying burn cards. I know we aren't like that. Reneece?"

"We have something in mind. IMC forces have a place set up undercover here. We plan to make a move on them. But for now, stay low, and buy shit," was the only reply from the older woman.

Martha inhaled. This was frustrating.

"Are we going to split up?" asked Lorcan, for once, his tone much more polite than it had been.

"We know your plans," Reneece offered.

"Can you blame me for trying?"

"Yes."

Lorcan, as usual, scowled. "You always have to take the fun out of everything."

Reneece spun to look at him. "When it comes to you, yes! Don't act like you weren't going to cause a bar fight!"

Lorcan's beautiful eyes rolled. He grabbed her chin, almost seductively, and grinned behind his facial mask. "This is a free place," he warned.

Reneece yanked her head back. "Stay away from me," she growled. Martha could barely hold her laugh. She knew Reneece has a passion for the weirdest dork on the IMC, and she hated Lorcan with a passion as strong as that.

Lorcan frowned. "Hmph. And what are your plans, then?"

"Be good."

Lorcan scoffed. He turned to look at Martha. "And what are you going to do? Buy an ITunes card?"

Martha failed to smile.

"No," she spat. "Better than stealing from random people."

"Oh, no, stealing feels great. Stealing someone's love and stabbing them in the chest feels great, too."

Reneece actually laughed. "Like you've ever."

Lorcan shot her a very _un_ lovely face.

Reneece just looked at him.

"Once." His growl showed no signs of regret, either. Martha couldn't help but feel like Lorcan was the most heartless person in the world. He killed, he stole, and he even didn't care about someone's feelings. Martha shook her head from the thought.

Reneece turned sharply. "Mouths shut starting now," she ordered.

Lorcan might have had something to say about that, until he saw what was ahead. Three IMC pilots, sitting at a deck with their arms crossed, R101 carbines slung across their backs in almost a demanding way. Martha growled.

"What are they doing here?" she whispered.

"Quiet!" Lorcan snapped.

Martha wanted to grab his throat and slam him back-first into the nearest wall, but she choked down her emotion.

 _Time for anger later._

The IMC pilots glared at them as they walked by. One of them, a rifleman much like the rest of them, practically could have grinned behind his helmet. "Something you want to say, sassy?" he asked Martha.

Martha opened her mouth, but she was silenced by Reneece. "No," she scoffed. The IMC pilot looked away from her as if she was scraps. Martha felt the urgent need to kill him. And soon, she would get that chance. It would just be a little longer.

As soon as the IMC pilots were out of range, Martha spun around and turned to fact the rest of her group. "What the hell was that?"

Reneece shrugged, as she pulled her Longbow-DMR sniper over her shoulder. "No idea. But that's our target. We need to make a plan."

"Ooh," said Lorcan, a chilling jawline set across the mask of his face. "We should reign all of the Militia's greatest terrors on those bitches."

Both women paused. "Yeah, no," Martha offered.

"Something quieter, please," Reneece suggested.

Lorcan growled animalishly. "I can't even have fun when we're _supposed_ to be doing something against the law!"

"Big deal," Martha rolled her eyes. "Reneece, any ideas?"

"I think I should set up on one of the roofs cloaked so I remain unseen by their eyes, and then Martha, with her shotgun, sets up in the darkness not far from there where she can see me. Lorcan, you should wait in the water underneath their benches and wait for the signal I give. Once that signal is released, I aim for the guy in the middle, Martha to the right one, and Lorcan to the left. Sound good?" she guessed.

"I thought it was supposed to be quiet," snapped Lorcan.

"It will make less noise than your plan," said Reneece. "And it'll be fast. The rest of the IMC soldiers will realize that we are long gone by the time they make it over. And then, we kill the rest of them too. Just wait and then surprise attack them all with my go."

Martha raised her hand like a kid in school for several quick seconds gone by. "Are we supposed to dispose of all the IMC units stationed here?" she asked.

"Affirmative."

Lorcan then spoke up. "But as we speak, Smuggler's Cove was taken from the Militia after our last fight with them and is in the IMC's hands. How will reinforcements not arrive to track us down?"

"I already have that taken care of. I have went over to the Communications Tower in a planet near here. It blocked out all signals from Smuggler's Cove. That will give us several more days to make an unspotted escape from Smuggler's Cove with only dead IMC soldiers as evidence," Reneece explained.

Lorcan rolled his hefty shoulders. "Sounds like a nice plan," he agreed.

"Surely we can't leave by boat?" Martha asked. "The citizens nearby will have noticed our faces if we get too close to them."

"Well, your face," Lorcan offered. "Reneece has a helmet that covers her face and I have a facial mask. We need something to cover you up with."

"Oh, come on," said Reneece, cheerfully. "We're in Smuggler's Cove! And you know our French lore shoppist! Let Martha take some time to find something to cover her face up while we wait here. We will radio Martha if they make a move."

Lorcan snarled once more. "Now _she_ gets free time? I feel like this is Pre-K all over a-fucking-gain!"

Reneece flared over to the lower ranking member. "You will, for once, stop complaining or I'll report back to Diego about your issues."

"Oh, no, please, not Diego!" gasped Lorcan sarcastically. "Sister, please. I'm not afraid of him. Nor should I be. Martha can go dalliance off, but know I will _not_ be happy about it."

"Dalliance?" Martha snapped. "Why I should tear your head off!"

"Oh yes, Martha, dalliance." Lorcan's grin was not hidden behind his facial mask. It felt even more visible, really. "We all know you had so many boyfriends when you were still in Paris. Not a doubt in my mind that you'll meet a kindred spirit here, either."

Reneece stepped between them. "Calm down, both of you!" she growled. "Martha, take your time. I'll cool Lorcan off before we get started."

Martha only nodded before she started back down towards the end of the street, hearing the casual yet sinister words of Lorcan behind her. She decided to ignore them. Lorcan could be pissy all he wanted to be. It didn't bother her to see him mad. Let him be mad. It's the only wish that he had on anyone else.

Martha turned down the luxurious streets of Smuggler's Cove. Just like Lorcan had said earlier, there were many pirates, smugglers, criminals, you name it, and it was there. That only made Martha feel a little more uncomfortable as she slid down the stairs with careful, delicate steps. Not to mention was she the _only_ female there.

All over the town were booths, where people were lined up and selling and buying. Martha's unease started to fade like the smog in a forest and was replaced with a new barrier of curiosity. What did these "fair" merchants have for sale? Surely not all of them were selling the most illegal things in the Frontier System now, were they?

Martha brought her attention over to one of the nearest booths, who seemed to have no line after one rough looking male had finished stuffing his purchase into a bag and slipping off, as discreetly as he could. Martha couldn't help but hold her laugh back. Buying something illegal, then?

Martha careful stepped up to the booth, her golden coins jingling in her pocket as she placed her green arms on the desk and peered to the man behind the counter. He was turned around, dealing with the money he just received. To get his attention, Martha whistled.

The man spun around. He looked quite too young to be serving illegal goods to grown men who were probably twice his age. He could only have been sixteen!

"Oh, goodness, you startled me," said the boy, shaking his neon purple hair. He was a white as the moon, with purple eyes the same color as his luminous hair. He was slightly shorted than Martha, maybe only by a few inches. "I usually don't hit sales like that too quickly."

"It's fine," Martha retorted, glancing around his small booth for anything that she would be able to put over her face. "Say, what do you have for sale? I need something to cover up my face. Not a mask or something, just something to cover up my nose and below."

The boy peered at her, suspiciously. "Robbing a vault?"

"Oh, no!" Martha exclaimed, too quickly for her likeliness. "I… work in an area that has a lot of dust and debris. A sick world, ami."

"Now you speak French?" the boy asked. "I don't, but I know the meaning of 'ami' when I hear it. Do you happen to be French?"

Martha felt offended. "I do happen to be!" she snapped.

Then boy seemed interested, though taken aback. "What else can you say?"

"Vous obtenez sur mes nerfs," she snorted.

"What does that even mean?"

"Don't you worry about it."

The boy grumbled. "Fine, but I don't want you to leave unhappily. Something to cover your face with? I don't have anything like that, all I sell are rare and precious burn cards with quite a bargain indeed. But I do happen to know where we can find someone who might have what you're looking for."

"Where?" Martha demanded.

"I'm getting to that," the boy said calmly. "Look, if you head straight down this road to your right, go until you hit the road Crosscards. There, make a left, and then you will see this large building. It may look like a club, but it's not. It's where some of the most profitable mercenaries hide, off the street and away from IMC eyes. Walk around until you come across a booth called Bernard's All Good. There, you may find a cover up where you can hide your face."

Martha couldn't help but grumble. "That sounds like a big walk."

"It is, but it's the closest place. All the street sellers get rid of are burn cards or titan pieces that they scavenged off in the battlefields. Can you perhaps tell me why a female Pilot came down for something to cover her face up? Helmets not good enough for you?" the boy questioned, peering at her intently.

"I can't just pick up any old helmet, mind you," she growled. "I have to wear this one. And this doesn't exactly pull the trick off. But thanks. I'll head down the road. Have a good one, garçon."

Martha pulled away from the booth, and could hear the boy's "I don't even know what that means!" behind her.

 _Foolish boy, making a living here. He might as well ask rats to come clean out his ears._

Martha padded down the streets, feeling the heavy steps underneath her as she trailed over to the end of the road. She looked up to the green sign that dangled over her head. "Crossroads," she whispered to herself. She looked around.

And soon enough, there it was.

She darted over and she halted. She remembered the boy's words. _He told me to go left once we hit Crossroads,_ she thought, as she took a halting, sharp left and she made her way down the road. Indeed, just as the boy as said, there was a big building. But it looked like a five minute walk from her already ten minute pace.

 _This is ridiculous._

Martha started to climb off towards the building, her feet feeling soon enough like huge boulders tied to the end of her legs. Walking around here was much harder than it looked. Not to mention, with all these people getting in your way, it made the walk seem even longer, and there was a lot more stopping and starting all over again.

Martha found herself coming off to the end of the road, when she could see more IMC soldiers hiding at the entrance. _Those asses!_ They were making sure no one entered the building. Not to mention, leave it.

 _It looks like parkour and jet packs might have to become useful now. Doesn't seem like I'll make a straight through right into these guys._

Martha looked around, and she could see window, towards the top of the building. It was a huge building, not to say, but the roofs of the houses around it would provide her enough space to leap right in. But she would need to be quiet about it. Not all the time were jet packs the most silent routes.

She started to make her way towards the right of the building, right into the darkness, the shady patches of where the roof turned her invisible. She decided cloaking would be the most valuable option as well. It would prove that her footsteps would be less likely to be sawn on the roof. Were she to be caught, she would be fucked.

This would also sketch the plans of her team.

Martha crept, ever so lightly, ever so gently, that not even she could be able to hear her own footsteps on the tile roofing. She had her shotgun in her hand, say for if the IMC did manage to see her. But not many people here were pilots from the Militia. No one had jet packs to get in, or she was sure that the IMC would have been guarding the roof as well.

Martha saw the window, only twenty meters from where she was perched on the rooftop. She could either run forward to reduce being seen, but noise might attract their attention. And roofs surely don't make ruddy noises when anything _but_ being run on.

Or, she could take a longer approach, ensuring that she remained quiet, but with a greater risk of getting seen. Not to mention, her cloak would go off any second, and that may catch the eyes of the IMC. Too much unwanted attention.

Martha decided it would better to be heard than seen. If she were to be seen, they would know who to look out for, and they would be going inside the building and investigating anything new. If she was just heard, that person most likely wouldn't have a jet pack and wasn't able to pull any jump off quite like this one. Then, the IMC would search the rooftops while she was inside the building.

And when they found nothing, return to the post with the other IMC soldiers.

Martha inhaled a quick, rough yet delicate, spiff of air as she braced her legs for running. She craned her right knee in an angle only the most valuable of close-combat fighters could perfect, and then she lifted her left leg into a mighty slam into the roof, making her sail forward and fly at full speed.

The only thing that bugged her: the roof's tiles were slipping around everywhere, and a lot of noise was being made.

Just a little farther… yes! She leapt off the roof, with her jet pack to put her motion in action, and she went flying right into the window with a double boost of the engine. A plan perfectly well executed, she would say.

She turned back from the bathroom in which she stood and looked out of the window to see where the IMC soldiers were at.

They all had their eyes fixated on the rooftops, grumbling among each other, before one of them slipped off from the group and started to use his own jetpack to get on top of the roof. But by the time he looked in the direction that Martha had been in…

She was gone, flying down the stairs inside of the building.

Martha opened the door from the stairs, and when she blinked with the dull lighting, could see many, at least twenty booths, sitting in the darkness, selling and buying among each other. Not to mention were there slaves, which made Martha feel a thick clot of distaste in her throat.

 _Slaves than. I wonder why they would only be inside of this building._

Martha saw one of the slaves bow down to her, his arms covered in thick chains. No, he was not man of color. He was simply any old white man, who was skinny and thin, with slight facial hair and scars all over his body.

"I welcome you, newcomer," he said, his voice raspy like he just swallowed a burning ember.

Martha withdrew her eyes from him, and she glanced around the room. All of these sellers, all of these merchants, had at least one slave in their arms. All of them, running around and taking care of water, food, and transporting heavy items.

Martha was sickened by it.

No man, not even Lorcan, deserved to be treated like this.

"Thank you," Martha said once she got her attention back on the slave that had welcomed her. "What's your name?"

"One time, before all of this, I was called Watson." He turned to her, his long hair dangling as far as his hips. "I was an engineer in the IMC. I was captured and brought here. Then, with a huge number of my fellow Commanders and team workers, I was sold to a man named Lois. And now, I am named Blower, for that is my job."

"Blower…" Martha trailed off. She realized, with a ting of vomit rising in her throat, what that meant. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?" he asked, staring at her. "You're a Militia hound. You don't care about us."

"Not all of us are like that!" she seethed.

"Sure seems like it," he grumbled. "Even though, thank you. Doing my job used to be bad, but I don't mind it as much now. It's still gross, yes, but sometimes I just deal with it. That's my life now."

Martha decided to leave him be, in shackles.

What a poor man.

She shook the thought off her head and she decided to continue. How could one person be so cruel? To force that kind of work upon a man… this "Lois" deserved the same fate.

She turned to one of the nearer booths, and there was nothing impressive about its features. In fact, not at all. Just a simple little booth, with a hairy old man behind the counter, grinning at her.

"Are you interested in classics?" he asked her.

"No," she snapped, and walked off as fast as she could.

Bernard's All Good. That was the name of the shop she was looking for. She turned her gaze to the end of the room, and she could see a variety of sellers there. She decided to ask them where this booth was. It would save time after all.

She could see three men huddled in the corner, talking and chatting among each other, drinking Moonshine and guffawing all over the place.

"Excuse me, do you know where Bernard's All Good is?" she asked.

The three men stopped and all peered at her.

"Who is this?" asked one, who was skinny just like the slave, but well-groomed and with a dribble of Moonshine on his chin.

"No idea, boss," said a much plumper male.

"Who are you?" asked the skinny one again.

"I'm…" _Don't say your real name._ "…Caroline."

The three men, one of them staying silent the entire time, looked over to each other. "What do you think, Lois?" asked the bigger one.

 _Lois. The boss. The owner of the slave._

Martha started to, unnoticeably, quiver with anger.

"I think she means business for Bernard," said the skinny one, Lois. "Why, I don't want here to leave her unhappy. Take a turn to the left. He will be right down there."

Martha just nodded her head, too angry to speak.

She turned and she made her way back down the aisle, before she could see a shop that had tons of vining plants with beautiful pale blue flowers and bright pink ones as well. Ores and gems littered around his station, with clothes and rags, some of them dripping wet with water as a slave worked, washing bloody wounds from his sides.

She could only wonder why the man was bleeding.

And behind the counter of this shop, a man much taller than her, with beef arms and a handsome face, a smile of pure greed, and his eyes lit up like a candle when he saw her.

"Good morning," he said, politely. "How are you this fine day?"

"Good," she said. "And you? You must be Bernard."

He grinned. "That, I am."

The slave, scrawny as Hell and his ribs showing though his shirtless torso, turned to look at her with a feverish grin. "I welcome you, newcomer," he said.

 _The same thing the other guy said. Must be a custom._

Bernard turned around and lashed out at the slave, making the helpless man crumble to the floor, his lip busting much like Martha's had when she was walking off the ship. Bernard wiped the blood off his hand.

"I apologize for my slave, Corpse," Bernard said. "He can be a little too outgoing to newcomers."

Martha swallowed her disgust. "I see" was the only thing she could get out.

"Oh, don't worry. He's a good boy. Now, I see a customer in your eyes. What can I offer to you?" he asked.

"I just need a mouth cover. I work in a dusty area, a lot of debris down there that I don't need to get in my lungs. Anything you can offer to me?" she asked.

"Indeed I do. Corpse, grab me a rag cloth," ordered Bernard, turning back to the bloody slave who was reaching up for things that were on the shelf.

Martha knew that some people like this kept slaves. Now, this was nothing new for the criminals in the Frontier. Most people didn't have them. It's not like slaves were crawling around Smuggler's Cove. It was only in the area that they were being worked. It may as well be considered the only place in the Frontier, really.

Bernard grabbed the blanket in which his slave had passed over. "Here you go." Bernard stuck his hand out. "That will be five hundred coin."

Five hundred coin? For a mouth cloth? Martha rolled her eyes as she passed the money down to him. He grinned and tipped a thick hat to her.

"Enjoy your day," she said.

"You too," he repeated, before he turned around back to his stash and stuffed the money in which he earned into it. Martha, as fast as she could, to get away from the slaves and away from this too-expensive place, back up the stairs, she leapt out of the building as fast as she could.

She could still see the IMC soldiers at the front, and just like she had guessed, the one that had ripped off from the other members of the group was back in his previous post before she had entered the building.

Martha grunted. _I guess you weren't looking long._

As silently as she had come in, despite her rush of speed to get into the building, she landed on the roof of the small building next to this one. She sighed before she looked down to her cloth that she held in her hand.

A faint color of husky hay and mold. Gross.

She knew it was clean, despite the color. A fashion liver from the previous life in Paris knew better than no one that a clean item than a filthy, used one. Not to mention the quality. And she guessed for being a rare find, a piece of fucking cloth, this was a fair price.

She slipped down the roof and off where she had come from, back down the Crossroads and down the alley where she met the younger boy. She knew Lorcan and Reneece were waiting for her, and she hoped Lorcan was in a better mood. That ass would get hit in the face if he so much as said a word to her.

She could see the two of them on the roof not too far away from where she was standing. Martha walked down the alley, waved to the younger boy and flicked a gold coin at him for his help, and went to go converse with the rest of the two Militia soldiers.

Lorcan turned to her with his sun colored eyes and he barked a laugh. "That's your cover? Looks like someone took a shit on that thing!"

Martha threw her gun at him, making the larger man fall backwards with a startled screech before tumbling off the roof and in the boxes behind the house. Reneece didn't seem too mad other than the fact she was staring at Martha with her crazy pink eyes, impassively.

Lorcan sat up from his fall into the boxes, and he hissed. "Whiny little bitch! Way to go!"

Martha just growled at him before offering a hand to help him up. He stared at it for a moment, sneered, and then smacked her hand out of the way with his own and stood by himself, dusting himself off before staring at Reneece.

Reneece seemed to know his gaze, and turned to look back at the IMC soldiers they had plotted to kill. "They're still there."

"Good." He turned to look back at Martha, who was frowning. He pushed his face into hers, luckily not being able to smell his breath through the facial cover that he wore, and he stared her right in the eye with his own glistening ones. "You're lucky I'm not beating every inch of hair out of you!"

"Be glad," she snapped, before walking back to Reneece. "I have things I need to do that don't involve having no hair on my body. I'd be a pink little pig."

Lorcan snarled behind her but Martha paid him no attention as she joined Reneece on the other side of the wooden roof. "So that's where I hide?" she asked, pointing to the dark corner on the other side of the guards.

Reneece nodded. "Lorcan will be on the entrance to the water with you, and I'll be right there." She nodded to the ledge on the roof. "Ready for this?"

Martha nodded.

"Good," Reneece grinned. "Let's move."

Reneece turned back to Lorcan, who was idly tapping his foot on the ground with impatience and rolling his finger on a shell necklace that he appeared to have stolen, hence he didn't have that when they had first arrived.

Reneece rolled her eyes. "Did you steal that?"

Lorcan laughed. "Right off that poor drunkard's neck."

Martha snorted. If Lorcan wanted to steal everything and expect to not get caught, let's see how far it got him.

Reneece beckoned for Lorcan to come over to them, and Lorcan obeyed by jumping off the boxes he was once standing on and he joined them. "Alright," Reneece said. "Get in positions. They don't have much awareness, so use your cloaks to avoid eyesight if they actually pay attention. Clear?"

Both Lorcan and Martha nodded.

"Move out." Reneece made her way up the roof and onto the ledge she pointed out to Martha while Lorcan slipped underneath the water rungs and pulled out his own weapon, and Martha slid into the darkness with her cloak on and her own Shotgun pulled out.

Reneece waited for several seconds, before she let out a high whistle.

One of the guards, the one in the middle, shot up in alarm, but a bullet from Reneece's sniper, with her extreme sniping skills, blasted the fool in the head. Once, Martha would have cared for the blood. But now, it was anything else she saw in this disgusting planet.

Martha watched as the two other guards leapt from their seats, not from the sound of the fire but the sudden drop in their companion. It was too late for the one on the right as Lorcan leapt from the water, his handsome features even more appealing now that he was dripping head to toe in thick, murky water, and he blasted upon the guard on the right.

Moments after, Martha used her silenced Shotgun shells to blast the other guard apart in just one shot, leaving the IMC soldiers dead on the floor and blood leaking into the water below. Someone was going to have to clean this up before the guards were aware that their teammates were dead.

Reneece jumped down off the roof, and she raced over to them. "Quick," she breathed. "We need to move. Now."

Lorcan spun to her, his eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because the guards are coming!"

At the end of the small alley, four guards were pointing and racing at them. Lorcan laughed hotly and turned to face the guards. He looked over his shoulder and the other women behind him, and he smirked. He grabbed a new magazine in his R-97 Compact SMG and he stuffed it in.

"I'll handle this," he growled. He turned back to the guards and he lifted his gun up to them. "Take this, motherfuckers!"

All of the guards dropped dead in their tracks as Lorcan threw his Arc Grenade towards them, blinding their vision. Lorcan looked back to Reneece, who had a wild look in her eyes.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she roared.

"Grab a boat," he sniffed. "I'll be there by the time you leave the dock. I'm going to hold these brats off. Go!"

Reneece opened her mouth to further argue with him, but Martha, who was tapping her foot on the ground much like Lorcan had earlier, grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her in closer. "Let's move!"

Reneece nodded, before putting her cloak on and disappearing into the alley behind Lorcan, who was firing all of the soldiers and the upcoming grunts down. Martha felt unease crawl up her spine as she raced down the alley and toward the dock. More guards were coming.

They could hear the side splashes of the waves before long, and Martha felt like running even faster now that the guards were gaining on them. "Come on, Reneece!"

Reneece didn't respond, breathing heavily as she turned the corner, too tired to speak. She could see their boat at the edge of the dock, not ready for today's departure. Looks like Martha could come up with another plan.

 _Lorcan, you fool. We were supposed to wait longer._

Martha was looking all over, and her eyes finally darted up to another ship that was getting ready to set sail. Martha looked to Reneece, pointing, and nearly falling over flat on her face. Reneece nodded, and then darted ahead with sniper speed, before rushing to the guy preparing the ship.

"Where are you headed?" she gasped for breath.

"Uh, Demeter," he said. "Why?"

"Can we catch on with you?"

The man paused, before Martha piped in. "Make a quick decision. We're in a really tight schedule."

The man nodded. "Sure. But you would have to pay extra per person because you didn't let me know before hand, and I don't like walk-ins. Pay the cash and your free."

Reneece tossed three amounts of cash. The man counted and looked up. "You paid a little too much."

Reneece groaned. "We have a third."

Martha slipped onto the small boat and landed on the floor, nearly falling because she didn't have sea-legs to support herself on the rocky boat. Reneece jumped on and she looked to the man.

Martha could see the guards coming and she sneered. "We need to go, now!"

The man looked at them. "But what about your third…?"

Both Reneece and Martha shouted, "Move!"

The man huskily threw the rest of his cargo onto the ship and then took hand of the wheel, starting the engine and then starting the boat. The guards ran faster, but they didn't make it.

Martha looked around, putting her hand on her head and looking vaguely sick. "Where's Lorcan?"

A voice shouted from the cliff next to them. All of them, the man, Martha, and Reneece all looked up to see a body launching itself from the edge and landing square in the boat.

Lorcan rubbed his head, before swirling back to the guards. "See you later, suckers!"

The guards on the edge were all shouting and yelping, but the boat pulled further and further away from the dock, and they could do nothing but watch as the three Militia pilots and the boatman sailed away.

Martha quirked her eyebrows. "Nice timing."

Lorcan sneered. "I saw you dickheads getting ready to leave harbor. It would have been hell to see all of you guys gone, and I would have gotten caught surely. I decided to make a break for it." Lorcan turned to the boatman. "Sorry. Uh, my name's Dan…?"

"It's Lorcan." Reneece rubbed her sniper. "Sorry if you didn't know why we were urgent to leave. We had thinks we had to do. Business with the IMC."

The boatman looked Lorcan up and down. "Thanks for lying while I'm your secret escape route. Nice to know I'm getting involved in the Militia's problems. You were getting chased by guards and now I can get arrested for assisting you terrorists. Had I known before I was leaving, I would had gotten all of you caught and jailed."

Lorcan waved his hand about. "No biggy, buddy. We got our own issues and if it involves a loyalist like you, we'll do it. What's your name?"

The man crossed his arms. "Why should I tell you terrorists?"

Lorcan sighed. "Because I'm going to file a warrant out for you that shows it wasn't a choice to set us free. You'll be safe to return to Smuggler's Bay and continue selling and buying shit without looking over your shoulder."

"Oh," the man grumbled. "Uh, it's Lenny."

"Thanks." Lorcan wrote it down on a notepad before stuffing it into his pocket. "Think Diego's going to be happy?"

"No," Martha snorted. "He never is."

Reneece nodded. "Isn't that the truth?" She placed her sniper crossly on her lap. "We will have to probably meet up with him in Demeter. He won't like that we had to change the plan, but it works. And Demeter is actually in Militia grounds. We will be safe there."

Lorcan snorted before he looked up. "Demeter?" he laughed. "You're kidding me, right? Next time we get to make some epic escape and sail away on a piece of crap boat, send _me_ to actually order the proper place. We could have paid a little hundred more coin and sent back to the Lagoon."

Reneece sighed. "That wasn't a risk we were willing to take."

Lorcan snorted. "Fine. But don't expect Diego to take your 'risks' too kindly. He's a man as straight as a blade. And that means we don't change the plan."

"It means we will do what it takes to survive our mission," Reneece growled. Martha almost was laughing out loud. The way these two could bicker sometimes. Lorcan snorted before sitting in a seat on the boat next to Lenny.

Reneece looked away and continued to stare off into the beautiful blue sea and waves. Martha was on the merge of falling asleep. If this was going to take two days, so be it. But Demeter was closer than the Lagoon was, so maybe it wouldn't be as bad as she had thought.

Other than the fact it was still on another planet. So even though this guy, Lenny, was going to Demeter, didn't mean he could sail there. What was on another planet they would have to take another ship on to. They would probably hit the end of the cove and then get sent out onto an aircraft for maybe a couple hours flight to Demeter.

Lorcan sighed and soon enough he went into space thinking about his own things. Reneece fell asleep and so did Martha. Martha felt her world spin black as she closed her eyes for rest.

* * *

"Hey!"

Martha opened her eyes to see a golden one staring down at her. Martha sprang, forgetting where she was for a moment, and then relaxed. She then remembered there was someone in there with her, and she turned to see who it was.

Diego.

"Oh," Martha stammered. "Hi!"

Diego lifted his eyebrow, unimpressed.

"May I ask what you're doing?" she paused. "And where we are? I was on a boat with Lorcan and Reneece…"

"And nearly killed. So called 'Lenny' tried to kill you while you slept," Diego snorted.

Martha actually blinked. "And I was asleep during all of this?"

"He drugged you. Lorcan told me he woke up and said he felt like an ant just bit him to see Lenny putting the needle in him. Luckily, Lorcan is immune to drugs and alcohol, and strangled Lenny and tossed him overboard."

Martha felt her jaw drop.

"That's why," Diego snapped, "you don't trust strangers. Follow the plan!"

Martha rubbed her neck. "I was not the one who came up with that plan. Lorcan told us to go."

Someone tapped on the door. Lorcan, Carlos, and Reneece were standing behind Diego. Lorcan sneered. "I said grab a boat. _The_ boat. Wasn't I the one who got mad that you were heading to Demeter?"

Martha growled. "Then I guess it's Reneece's fault."

Reneece curled her lip, but Diego shook his head. "Both of you are going to get my anger. Later. Since it's both of you guys' fault that the plan was broken."

Martha snorted. "Did we ever hit Demeter?"

"No," Diego growled. "Lorcan used the walkie-talkie to radio Sarah and tell her some asshole tried to murder you and that you were finished with the mission." The General crossed his arms. "And that you needed to be picked up."

Lorcan nodded, and Reneece rubbed her neck. Carlos remained silent, peeking his eyes underneath his long sunglasses and readjusting his scarf on his neck. Martha reached for her phone, once again forgetting that it was gone, and groaned. She looked to Diego, who was smirking with his handsome gaze.

"What's so funny?" Martha asked.

"Your phone is gone? Funny. Try looking in the _garbage can and wonder who put it there._ " Diego stood up and he glanced at his squad behind him. "What are you all waiting for? Get back to work!"

All three members disappeared.

Diego looked back to Martha, who was now sitting up. "Get dressed and get ready to be put back at your post. I'm expecting you in my office in five minutes."

Martha stood up and saluted. "Sir, yes sir."

"Good." Diego turned around and he headed down up the stairs.

As soon as he was gone, Martha dropped her salute and she groaned. She looked back to her armor and snorted. Back in green. She picked the clothing from the closet hanger and she put it on in the neatest and fastest way possible, took bubble gum, and then started running upstairs to go talk to Diego.

She opened the door to see Diego sitting with his legs propped on the desk, a cigarette hanging out of his lips and his golden gaze fixated on her when she walked in. She walked across the clean and orderly room before taking a seat in the chair in front of him.

"What would you like, sir?" she asked, chewing bubble gum in her mouth.

"The IMC are frenzied." Diego leaned in on her. "They think you're trying to steal back Smuggler's Cove without an official battle. And they won't allow that. Next time, try to be sneakier, or you will be punished."

Martha nodded.

"And the entire Squad is getting sent to the Militia's base for a sign-in. It will only take a few days. If everything goes to plan, that is."

Martha just nodded again. "So we are supposed to go gather information again?"

"Yea," Diego sighed. "Looks like big boy-in-blue Stanislav, one of the worlds' best hackers, which you already know, got into the Militias' failsafe and stole thousands of dollars of technology towards the IMC."

Martha spat out her gum into the nearby trashcan. Diego curled his lip. "And what are we going to do to retaliate?" she asked.

"Simple. After our check-in, we go to the Three Towers Airbase and we steal it back."

Martha paused. "Surely we will run into Stanislav there?"

"Their whole squad." Diego looked at the paper. "Squad leader Decimus, second-in-command Adira, some idiot named Raoul, Stanislav, and a chick named Sinead."

"What do we do if we see them?" Martha asked.

"Easy." Diego glared at her. "Kill them and bring their bodies back to me. They're wanted by the Militia, and they need to be killed. As soon as possible."

Martha snorted. She stood up and nodded. "Very well sir."

Martha turned and walked out of the door of the office. This was going to be a rough next few days.


End file.
